


Chlorine & Pond Scum

by thequeergiraffe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeergiraffe/pseuds/thequeergiraffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He likes Dean best in the summer, when the freckles across his nose stand out against his tan and the water from the pool clumps his eyelashes together. He looks like he could be anyone at all, not the son of a hunter, not Sam’s warden. Just a boy with brown skin and too-green eyes and a smile that spells trouble. Sam thinks he could love Dean like this, with his freckles and his slicked back hair, a bead of water traveling down his temple towards his jaw; he thinks he could love Dean in a way he knows is wrong, a way that makes his stomach twist and his chest ache.</p><p>--</p><p>I wrote this little one-shot for Jessie ages ago, but I only posted it on tumblr. Whoops!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chlorine & Pond Scum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goandgetthegun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goandgetthegun/gifts).



The water closes in over Sam’s head and he pulls some in through his mouth and nose by accident, spluttering when he resurfaces, only to be yanked under again. At first he’s terrified- firm grip around his ankle, bitter-sharp taste in his mouth like chlorine and pond scum- but then, as he breaks water again and tosses his arms wildly in an attempt at escape, he hears Dean laughing and all the pieces click together.

“You _dick_ ,” he chokes, water running out of his nose and making his voice sound rough and broken. “I almost drowned.”

“Lighten up, Sammy.” Dean slams his palms together, sending a little jet of water into Sam’s face. “I was just teasin’.”

Sam’s angry now, something he’s been struggling with a lot lately, and all it takes is that cocky smirk on Dean’s face to send him lunging through the water and grappling to drag Dean under. It’s not the most effective attack (Dad would not be proud) but at the end of it they’re both wheezing and spitting up dirty pool water, and Sam thinks that’s almost good enough.

It ends the way all of their fights end: with Sam pressed against the wall of the pool, panting and glowering, and Dean leaning just across from him, also breathing hard but grinning too, a taunt hiding in his eyes and at the edges of his smile.

It’s unbearable.

Bracing with his elbows, Sam pulls himself out of the water and slaps his wet butt against the broken tiles that line the pool’s edge. He’s bringing his legs up as Dean paddles over, crowing, “Come on, don’t be such a wuss. I was just messin’ with you, Sammy.” Sam stands up and pushes his wet hair out of his eyes, and Dean’s voice grows more insistent. “Sam. Don’t get your panties all in a twist. Sam! _Sam!_ ”

Ignoring him, Sam stalks over to his towel, smoothes it out across the too-warm tiles, and lies down on his stomach, laying his head on his arms and shooting a wounded look at Dean.

Very quietly, Dean says once more, “Sam,” and it’s almost an apology, but not quite. Then they’re both silent, Dean with his arms against the edge of the pool and his feet kicking, Sam watching Dean from beneath his dripping hair.

He likes Dean best in the summer, when the freckles across his nose stand out against his tan and the water from the pool clumps his eyelashes together. He looks like he could be anyone at all, not the son of a hunter, not Sam’s warden. Just a boy with brown skin and too-green eyes and a smile that spells trouble. Sam thinks he could love Dean like this, with his freckles and his slicked back hair, a bead of water traveling down his temple towards his jaw; he thinks he could love Dean in a way he knows is wrong, a way that makes his stomach twist and his chest ache.

It’s sick, and Sam knows it. But he thinks it all the same.

“Come on back in the water, Sammy,” Dean says at last, voice soft, and this time it _is_ an apology.

Still, Sam shakes his head and lets his eyes fall closed. The sun beats down on his back and it feels like penance for his sins.


End file.
